


Animal Farm

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Animals, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Canon Era, Curses, Druids, Gen, Good Morgana (Merlin), Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Morgana Friendship (Merlin), Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Pining, Protective Arthur, Protective Knights (Merlin), Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:02:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25858624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: When a spell turns the Knights into animals, Merlin thought it would be funny. He was mistaken
Relationships: Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Morgana (Merlin)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 499
Collections: Emrys is a mess, Numerous OTPS Infinite Fandoms





	1. Merlin's POV

Merlin hated sorcerers. Hated them. Even if it was ironic, he despised them. All they did was hurl spells at him, or worse, at Arthur, and Merlin had to think of a way to get them out of the situation without the King figuring out he had Magic. Morgana kept trying to convince him to tell Arthur the truth, but honestly, he was terrified. What if Arthur sacked him? What if he wanted George to replace Merlin?

He would rather live a lie for the rest of his life, than ever lose Arthur. Plus, by saving Arthur, he saved Guinevere as well.

Lancelot and Gwaine had both pointed out that Merlin didn’t deserve to keep hiding, but he was still afraid. The Hunt had been a good opportunity, he could tell Arthur the truth, and give him time to get over his anger on the way back.

Merlin had been ready. He’d prepared the words in his head, had walked up to Arthur, only for his Magic to warn him something was wrong.

The bolt of light hit him before he could process what was happening, his Magic fighting against the spell. Luckily, it seemed to be winning. Unfortunately, the force of the blast sent him back towards a tree, and he promptly hit it. He had just enough time to hear the Knights swearing as they were engulfed in the light, before his face hit leaves.

**

Something was nudging him. It implied that it wasn’t Gaius waking him, because that usually involved a bucket of water, or loud sounds, or the sheets being dragged. This was gentle, soft and considerate, and Merlin wondered if he’d fallen into bed with someone. Unlikely. Although a lot of people did sleep in his bed, it was usually injured people, and he would kip on the floor.

Another nudge, a faint growl, and Merlin decided it was definitely time to get up. It wasn’t his bed underneath him, but wet leaves and mud, and he grimaced. Where was he?

The Hunt. Telling Arthur. A sorcerer.

Shit.

He sat up pretty sharply then, groaned when his head spun. The clearing was empty, apart from some piles of clothing and armour, swords strewn about. Merlin felt his heart clench in fear, then looked to what had woken him.

A hunting dog, one with a grey coat and oddly-human eyes. Beside it sat a black cat, staring right at Merlin like they expected him to recognise them.

It wasn’t weird for animals to like Merlin. His Magic drew all manner of creatures from the woods, but they didn’t usually come this close. Merlin sighed, rubbed the back of his neck and then turned back to where the Knights had been.

It was then that he spotted the snake, curled up but watching him. Scales of brown with red flashes, tongue flicking out when Merlin stared.

‘Creepy.’ He muttered, before something nudged him.

He leapt out of his skin, vaguely noted that he had shrieked as he scrambled away from the bear. It was a very rare event to run into one, especially this close to Camelot. It looked hurt at his sound, sat back onto its back legs and waited patiently. It was the eyes that got Merlin, he stopped wriggling backwards and cocked his head to the side.

‘Percival?’ The bear grinned, if that was possible, nodding rapidly. A weird sound came from the creature, a grumbled agreement, and Merlin swore under his breath. Then he looked back to the other creatures he had found, first to the serpent.

‘Elyan.’ He reached out, picking the snake up off of Elyan’s armour, settling the snake down on the ground in front of him. A hiss, a little bit of movement, and then the creature fell still. Merlin looked up to the cat, that was patiently waiting for his turn, glaring occasionally as the dog’s tail whacked into him.

‘Lance.’ The cat meowed, and Merlin couldn’t help it. He laughed. Fell back into the dirt and laughed, until his chest ached and he had to acknowledge that he hadn't yet found all of them.

Gwaine was waiting for his turn to be identified, his tongue hanging from his muzzle and his tail beating on the ground. Behind him, a deer was standing, half-hidden by the tree. A light coat, antlers small enough not to be dangerous, but it was the colour that stood out. A reddish tinge to the coat, curled, and Merlin smiled.

‘Sir Leon.’ Weird, addressing a deer with a title, but it was enough for the deer to bow its head back. Gwaine was pouting, if a dog could pout, and Merlin said his name just to stop the puppy-dog eyes.

‘Arthur. Where’s…’ He trailed off, finally coming face to face with the King of Camelot, who was unmistakeable. Golden feathers, tinging to a darker brown at the ends, with the sharpest looking talons that he had ever seen. Perched in a low-hanging branch, a falcon that Merlin was instantly in awe of.

‘Wow. Look at all of you.’ He turned back to the group, then stood up sharply.

‘The sorcerer…’ He moved to the footprints in the dirt, the man had evidently run off.

‘Back to Camelot, or in chase of the sorcerer.’ He mused aloud, knowing what Arthur would want him to do. Get back-up, probably Morgana, and ask for her assistance.

But Merlin had the abilities to chase the sorcerer himself. He could prove to Arthur that he could do this, and at the same time, show him that Magic wasn’t harmful.

He looked to the King, then to the Knights, before staring to the tracks.

‘We’re going after the sorcerer.’ A growl, a squawking sound, and a strangled sound from the cat. Gwaine barked, while Elyan stayed quiet, and Merlin turned to them.

‘I can’t take you back to Camelot like this! The further we let the sorcerer get, the less chance they can reverse the spell. I’ll set the horses free, with your armour, and with a note to Morgana.’ He went to move, only for the falcon to come swooping down. Granted, a little wobbly, but Merlin still stretched his arm out on instinct.

He hissed as talons sunk into his arm, Arthur squawking once again and falling from the arm quicker than Merlin could have predicted. Where he’d tried to land, tiny pricks of blood rising to the surface through the broken fabric of his jacket.

‘Shit.’ He stripped the jacket off, winced at the marks on his arm. Arthur was currently being chased by Gwaine, the dog barking and the falcon trying his best to attack, while the others waited.

Merlin wrapped his arm quickly, grabbed the back of Gwaine’s head sharply, like he would a pup. The dog fell still, Arthur glaring at Merlin like this was his fault.

‘Behave.’

With the horses loaded with armour, Merlin untied them. He pressed a hand to Llamrei’s flank, tried to convey the message with his Magic, asking her to flee back to Camelot. The horse whinnied, before breaking into a canter and disappearing off through the trees.

Merlin’s horse was left, the one that Arthur had allowed him to name.

‘C’mon, Sparky, we’ve got some Knights to save.’ The horse followed obediently, halting while Merlin bent to retrieve Excalibur. The only sword he hadn't sent back, wrapping her around his waist and tying the belt off.

Arthur didn’t look impressed, glaring with his beady eyes, but Merlin just ignored him.

‘Lancelot, Elyan, you’re with me. The rest of you, stick close.’ He reached for Elyan, settled the snake on the back of the horse, much to Sparky’s displeasure. Lancelot didn’t really like being picked up, his body going lax and difficult to manhandle as he mounted the horse, placing the cat in his lap.

‘Stay.’ He ordered, then yelped when Lancelot bit his finger.

‘Bad cat.’ He grumbled, but urged Sparky onwards.

Off to find a Sorcerer.

**

‘The tracks lead North. The nearest village can’t be more than a short ride, if we get there, I could go and ask if anyone’s seen something suspicious.’ Elyan, who had managed to wrap himself around the reins that Merlin held, flicked his tongue out in response. Arthur, who had settled onto Percival’s back, eyed him up disapprovingly. Gwaine had given up trying to eat Leon’s legs, trotted alongside happily.

‘I never thought I’d say this, but I miss Gwaine’s stories.’ That earned a bark from the Knight, while Percival grumbled out a sound that was probably a protest.

Merlin halted Sparky when they reached the path, dismounting and peering down at the tracks. They were continuing off into the forest, but Merlin figured there wouldn’t be much harm in checking the Village out. Plus, with the sun setting, he needed to make Camp.

He moved them away from the Village, leading Sparky over to a tree to tie her up. She was satisfied with the grass she had access to, leaving Merlin to place Elyan down on a log and lift Lancelot off the horse. He quickly moved to the other Knights, and Merlin stared.

‘Right, you all stay here, I’ll…’ He’d never seen six animals protest so quickly. Arthur’s wings ruffled, Percival sat back, Leon making a bleating sound. Lancelot meowed, quite simple, and Elyan slithered from the log to come in his direction.

‘I can’t take you. You’d all be hunted. Apart from…’ He trailed off, glancing to Gwaine. The Knight barked happily, came to Merlin’s legs and nudged up against them.

‘Stay here.’ Merlin shot one last look to the Knights, then sighed.

‘Off to the Village.’

**

The Villagers were quite happy to help him, especially when he offered out a coin or two. Apparently, a man had come through three days before, but they had chased him out on suspicion of Magic. Merlin got a description, one fitting the vague flash he’s seen, and thanked them for their time. They couldn’t offer much out, all that they knew was that he had come from the North.

When Merlin finished talking, he found Gwaine playing with some of the children. They raced around after him, and Merlin took the moment to reach into his pocket.

Gwaine’s necklace, which he had snuck from the pile of armour, to tuck safely away. He didn’t tell the Knight he’d taken it, he wasn’t even sure why he had.

They walked back to the Camp in silence, Merlin brooding over how best to continue. He could do with a tracking spell, but was he really ready to show Arthur his Magic?

Food wasn’t an issue. The Village had told him there was a stream just ahead of the clearing, where he could go and fish.

None of them left his side, settled along the riverbank while Merlin took a sharp stick and waded in. He felt bad, using his Magic to lure them closer, but they needed food.

**

With dinner over, Merlin had the chance to gradually introduce Arthur to Magic. He went to his satchel, pulled out the box Morgana had given him, headed to the fire. He knelt down by the flickering heat, opening up the box and revealing a lock of Morgana’s hair. Dark, smooth and shiny, looking just as it had when she’d snipped it off.

The Knights were watching. All of them, Arthur included, and Merlin chucked the hair in. Luckily, the Magic was already embedded, he didn’t need to perform a spell to connect them.

The flames changed, and through them, a room could be seen.

‘Merlin!’ Morgana rose from her dressing table, came rushing across to kneel in front of the fire.

‘Morgana! The tether worked.’ He beamed at her, while she cocked her head.

‘Why is there a bear in the fire?’

Merlin had a lot to explain.

**

After Morgana had finished laughing, she listened to Merlin’s plan to track the sorcerer. She nodded along, informing him that the horses had made it back to Camelot.

‘I can ride out to help, if you need my Magic.’ They weren’t openly mentioning the fact that he had Magic, mostly because Merlin was still fearful that Arthur would hate him. Sure enough, looking to the falcon, the King was focused on him. Waiting for an explanation that Merlin couldn’t give, because he didn’t know how.

‘It might be helpful. The sorcerer’s strong.’ Morgana stated that she’d ride out at first light, so Merlin broke the tether and went back to Sparky.

Brushing the horse down took away the nerves bubbling up in his gut, stopped him from looking back to Arthur.

When he set out his bedroll, it was Gwaine that came to his side first. Then Lancelot, curling up at the end of the bed. Elyan seemed content to stay on his log, while Percival moved closer to Merlin. He kept the sword by his side, pulled up a blanket over his shoulders and settled down on the ground.

Leon moved over some time later, coming to lie down close to Merlin. Pleased, the sleepy Warlock rolled closer to him, the Knight not denying him the comfort of companionship. The silence stretched, Arthur having perched himself in the tree above.

Gwaine’s wet snout nudged under his chin, Merlin wrapping a lazy arm over him.

Safe, for now.

**

The second day brought with it new challenges. The band of animals followed the tracks that were remaining, despite the heat that was overwhelming. Merlin could feel his shirt sticking to his body, huffed as he stripped off his jacket and threw it over the back of the horse. It did little to cool him down, and he decided he needed a bath pretty soon. Or a dip in a stream.

‘It’s boiling.’ Gwaine was dragging his paws, even Arthur looked uncomfortable in the heat. He had stopped flying ahead, settled on Leon today, using the deer as his carrier. Lancelot was curled up on Percival’s back, while Elyan had hitched a ride with Gwaine.

Sparky wasn’t looking to great either. The heat was making it miserable, and Merlin had almost decided to stop for lunch, when his Magic pricked up.

Suddenly, he wasn’t hot. A shiver ran down his spine, Merlin tugging the reins and halting the mare, before dismounting. The band of Knights halted, staring at him like he was mad, but Merlin was beginning to panic.

They had no weapons. It would be so easy for an arrow to fire through the trees, or for a sword to slice, and they’d have no choice but to take the hit. With that thought in mind, Merlin drew Excalibur from her sheath, turning his head.

‘Shh.’ He snapped, when Gwaine made a sound.

His Magic acted on instinct, when the bolt whizzed towards them. It halted mid-air, before a shout was heard from the trees.

There were men in too many directions, at least eight of them, far too many for Merlin to take with a sword. Plus, he’d just used his Magic to halt the arrow, so he might as well go for it.

His hand stretched out, eyes flashing golden as he sent the men flying. He made sure not to kill them, just enough to knock them unconscious, before scanning for any other threats.

A meow drew his attention, Lancelot rubbing against his leg as he moved between his feet, trying to reassure.

Arthur.

Merlin turned, staring at the Falcon with what he hoped was his best pleading look.

‘Arthur…’ The bird turned his head away, like he was angry, and Merlin took a step closer. None of the Knights looked ready to flee, only Arthur, and it broke Merlin’s heart.

‘I… I didn’t want you to find out like this. I never meant to keep it a secret for so long, I just… I didn’t want you to have to choose, between me, or Camelot.’ Arthur still didn’t turn to face him, even if Gwaine licked his hand to try and comfort him.

He was crying. Tears that tracked down his cheeks, because Arthur wasn’t looking at him, and Merlin had been wrong. He couldn’t show Arthur his Magic, and now he’d lose his job.

‘I’ll quit. Once we get back to Camelot, you can have… George.’ The name tasted foul, the man trying to steal his position.

‘I won’t leave Camelot. I’m not leaving your side, even if you order it.’ Merlin snapped, hurt, and Arthur finally turned to look at him. The falcon observed him for a moment, while Merlin wondered if it would be so bad for him to drop his knees. Did he need to swear loyalty?

A squawk. Not one of anger, but not of happiness either. Arthur took a step, funny considering he was bird, closer to Merlin, still on Leon’s back.

He wasn’t being rejected. Merlin risked a shaky smile, Arthur ruffling his feathers and then falling silent, but his head nodded.

‘S-sorcerer!’ One of the men had woken up, and was reaching for his sword. Merlin’s eyes flashed golden once more, watched him drop back to the ground.

Arthur knew he had Magic. Merlin couldn’t stop the smile, then looked to his arm that was still wrapped from Arthur’s talons the day before. He unwrapped it quickly, winced at the blood-stained fabric, before laying his hand over the cuts.

It took more focus than most spells. Merlin wasn’t great with healing Magic, but he had enough power to knit the skin back together, leaving a couple of silvery scars. Pleased, he looked back up, found the others staring at his now-smooth skin. Gwaine nudged at it, Merlin obliging and showing him what he had done.

‘I’m not great with healing magic.’ He admitted to the dog, who licked his arm in response.

‘Gross. Gives me more reasons to find a stream.’ He muttered, before walking back to Sparky, Excalibur sheathed once more.

**

‘Unless you’re planning on a free show…’ Merlin trailed off, fingers reaching for the laces on his trousers. That was enough for the animal-Knights to flee, even Gwaine, who did stick his tongue out in defiance. Merlin waited for a while, unsure of stripping down when they could return at any point. After all, there were still things he didn’t want them to know, even if his Magic had been revealed.

The heat overpowered Merlin’s self-conscious attitude towards his scars, stripping down to just his smallclothes and quickly stepping into the lake. The water was freezing, as he expected, but it was nice enough to swim out. Merlin wondered why he’d never done this before, he always had to stay dressed on Hunts. He didn’t quite dare strip down when the Knights went to the Lake, knowing there would be too many questions.

Now, however, he could bathe in the cool water. After he’d ducked his head a couple of times, he noted that the Knights had returned.

Gwaine was the first to run into the water, splashing around and barking to the others, before swimming in Merlin’s direction. The Warlock sniggered, splashing the dog when he got to close, Gwaine yelping in annoyance.

Leon was a lot more refined, stepping in to ankle-depth and taking a long drink from the Lake. Merlin had tried to share his waterskin with the creatures, but it wasn’t exactly to pour water down all of their throats. Elyan in particular, who was currently stretching out on the sand.

Lancelot was at the water’s edge, lapping at it with his tongue and eyeing up Gwaine warily, as the hunting dog encouraged Percival into the water. The bear was more than happy to give chase, water splashing all over a very disgruntled Leon as he did so. Merlin laughed, before diving under again.

When he resurfaced, it was to chaos.

Arthur, the dollophead that he was, had decided it was a good idea for him to attempt to get in the water. Only for his wings to get too heavy, hence the thrashing around that was currently going on. Gwaine began to swim across, but Merlin was quicker, diving for the King and trying to avoid the talons that he knew would pierce his skin.

The squawking ended, Arthur having just enough sense not to stab Merlin to death with his talons, while the Warlock dragged the bird towards the shore.

‘Honestly, you prat, what gave you the impression that swimming was a good idea! You’re a bird!’ He scolded, walking from the water and placing the soggy bird down. Arthur’s beak snapped aggressively, before the falcon fell silent again.

Ah. Merlin had left the water. He winced internally, glanced down to his bare chest, then back to Arthur.

‘I can explain.’ He lied, then quickly turned in the hope that it was just Arthur that had spotted his situation.

Luck was not on his side, all of the Knight’s staring at him like they’d never seen him before. They had the worse view, the nasty whip-marks and the Serket sting that he really didn’t want to think too much about.

‘We should get going.’ Merlin decided, moving towards his clothes and wondering if it would be so bad to wipe their memory once they got out of this situation.

**

‘… and the camp’s a short ride away, plus the Druids might be able to help us with the curse.’ Merlin finished, stroking between Lancelot’s ears as they continued their journey. With Morgana heading towards them, and the sorcerer’s trail going cold, it was time for a break. Merlin knew that the Camp was just ahead, and that the Druids might be able to assist them.

Arthur hadn't complained, had even nodded along to Merlin’s plan. Whether or not it was because of earlier, Merlin didn’t know. Nor was he going to waste the opportunity.

‘Right, no scaring them. Don’t give me that look, Gwaine, behave.’ The Knight barked, mischief in his eyes, and Merlin opted for sighing.

He then paused, realising that walking into a druid camp might not be the best idea. With his Magic only recently revealed, Arthur wasn’t going to take it very well if Merlin started adding to the secrets he had been keeping. Unconsciously, he tugged on Sparky’s reins, the mare halting at his command. Percival and Leon stopped shortly after, Gwaine continuing, before looking back to Merlin.

If he went to this Druid camp, then he’d have a better chance of helping the Knights. Which was the aim, if Merlin forgot about being selfish for a moment. Fearing Arthur’s response wasn’t a reason for keeping them like this, was it?

‘You’ve got this.’ Merlin muttered under his breath, taking a deep breath and squeezing his heels to Sparky’s side. The mare began to move once more, while Lancelot looked up from where he was seated on the saddle.

It would be fine.

**

The whispers started the moment Merlin dismounted, his name being echoed out across the Camp. He didn’t stop, however, kept moving onwards as he led Sparky and the Knights towards the man that had emerged from a tent in front.

‘My lord.’ The Druid bowed low, and Merlin hastily shook his head.

‘There’s no need for formalities! Just Emrys is fine, Merlin would be even better.’ The Druid studied him for a moment, before looking to the animals that stood behind him.

‘My name is Oshi, and I welcome you, Emrys. Now, how about you explain the curse?’ Merlin was relieved, relaxed and even dared to smile.

**

He had tried to argue that he really didn’t need a tent for the night, nor did they need to host a feast in his honour, but both of those statements had been ignored. Merlin had eventually given in, tied up Sparky and removed her tack, brushing her down and then taking his satchel to the tent he had been given. Inside, a proper bed and blankets was in the centre, along with a basin filled with water.

‘Oh, it looks so comfy.’ He didn’t get very close to it, because Gwaine was racing around and jumping up onto the sheets. Merlin laughed, then turned to see that the others had come in. Arthur was back to staring at him, and the Warlock paused.

‘So, you remember the prophecies the Druids told you about? And Morgana?’ Arthur gave one nod, proof that Merlin was close to spending an entire month in the stocks.

‘You’re it. The Once and Future King, the man to unite all of Albion.’ The amount of times Merlin had thought about saying those words, of telling Arthur just how great he would be, was unbelievable. He left no room for doubt in his voice, said it with awe, unlike the doubt it had been when Kilgharrah had first brought it up.

Arthur was waiting. So were the Knights, patiently, like there was more to the story. Merlin cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out what Arthur wanted, only for the King to squawk at him again.

‘What? I can’t actually speak bird, you prat, what do you… oh. Yeah, I’m Emrys.’ He shrugged, unsure of whether to expand on that sentence.

‘But that’s only what the Druids call me. I’m still Merlin.’ He argued, and Arthur sunk down onto Percival’s back like he could hide in the fur. Percival made a grumbling sound, lips twitching up at the corners, and Leon came to nudge his side. Lancelot had made his way to the bed, while Elyan stayed looped around Leon’s neck.

**

The cup had a suspicious smelling liquid in it, but he was worried it would be considered rude to reject, so he swallowed it down and almost choked.

‘Shit, Gwaine you’d like this.’ His cup was refilled by a passing Druid, who smiled at him warmly.

Getting drunk had not been on his list of things to do, but he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass him by. Besides, he barely ever had any free time, and so he gulped down the liquid hungrily. When he received a look from Lancelot, Merlin rolled his eyes.

‘I barely ever have free time. Let me have this.’ A meow from his friend, so Merlin continued to drink. Around him, people danced to the music that was playing, the fire being the centrepiece of the festivities. Food had already been passed around, Merlin thankful for the mostly vegetable-based diet. Luckily, the Druids had been able to cater for the animals. Apart from Elyan, who declined the mouse they offered.

Magic. Clearly on display, lights flickering and plants blooming and all the things that made Merlin’s heart burst. It was stunning to see, even better to think that Arthur was watching. The Knights all seemed fascinated, before Leon nudged his side.

‘Sir Leon?’ He questioned, unsure, and the deer nodded across to those using Magic, then looked back to him.

‘You want me to do something?’ Leon nodded, the other Knights all turning to look at him. Arthur didn’t protest, so Merlin hesitantly looked at his hands.

What could he do?

The answer was simple, bringing his hands to his lips and muttering the spell. When he unravelled his hands, the blue butterfly burst to life, glowing in the low light. Around the fire, the Druids stopped the dancing to watch him, multiple people clapping at the display. Emboldened, Merlin let his Magic rush out, until a cloud of butterflies chased after the first.

Oshi came across, a bright smile on his face.

‘Incredible! We had heard of your powers, but to create life…’ Merlin blushed, ducking his head only for it to be nudged back up by Leon.

‘Thank you.’ Oshi chuckled, placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder.

‘You’re but a child now, Emrys, but one day, you’ll live up to your title. The potential is there already.’ Merlin wasn’t used to people talking about his prophecy. Most were cryptic, less than open, and he couldn’t help but want to know more. Oshi smiled, went to move on, but Merlin’s tongue ran on before he could stop it.

‘Is it true?’ It burst free, and he tensed up once he’d spoken. Oshi looked back to him, and Merlin hesitantly rose his head.

‘Am I truly Magic itself?’ Oshi smiled, gestured to those dancing around the fire.

‘We are people of Magic, yet we could never command spells like you do. Instinctive Magic, like your gift, it’s beyond anything we could imagine.’ He crouched down, a hand on Merlin’s thigh, and the kindest eyes.

‘The warmth we feel when we ask the Goddess for our power, it’s an addition to our person. But when you perform Magic, it feels as natural as breathing, does it not?’ Merlin nodded numbly, turning his palm up and summoning a small orb of light with just a thought.

‘You may not accept the title as our King, but you have the power to be.’ And with that, the Druid was gone, wandering back towards his people.

Merlin cleared his throat, clenched his hand to diminish the spark and swallowed down the alcohol as quickly as he could. Lancelot meowed, but Merlin didn’t want to talk about it. He focused on his cup, refilled it with his Magic, and then drained that as well.

The only person that had ever viewed his Magic as a gift was Morgana. Gaius warned him to be careful of it, Kilgharrah saw it as a tool. The other Druids watched him as a King, sorcerers called him a traitor.

Morgana had cried in joy when she’d showed him, had hugged him so tightly and called his Magic the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

Shit, he was not crying just because somebody else saw the beauty in his Magic. He was about to make a tactical retreat, to find a way to leave the feast, when a girl came to stop in front of him.

‘Emrys, hi, I’m Amie.’ Her hand was offered out, and he took it, before shuffling across when she sat beside him.

‘I was going to ask if you wanted to dance.’ She was pretty. Stunning, in fact, with dark hair and the most sincere eyes, but that was the problem.

Freya’s eyes haunted him, her sweet smile and shy gaze, and it was all too much.

‘I actually just wanted to watch.’ He was mad, thoroughly mad, for refusing such a pretty woman. She drew the eyes of most of the Druids, but she’d come to him.

‘Oh, that’s okay! We can just talk?’ She looked so hopeful, which led to Merlin nodding, and her beginning to ramble on.

‘… I mean we all grew up on stories of you! It was weird, because we totally didn’t think the Once and Future King would be a Pendragon! Especially not with Uther…’

‘Arthur’s nothing like his father.’ It was reflexive, a lifetime of saying it, and she quickly backtracked.

‘Of course not! No, how could he be, with you at his side!’ Not the answer he wanted either, shaking his head.

‘No, Arthur’s good because of him, not me.’ She didn’t seem to be listening, rattling on once again, and he wished he’d learned a spell to make himself vanish.

‘and after you killed Nimueh, there was no doubt about your powers!’ He quickly decided that it was worse, sitting here and listening to his whole life being chatted about so openly, especially in front of the Knights.

‘You know what, a dance sounds great.’ Amie beamed, placed her drink down and offered out her hand. Merlin took it, following her out.

She was lovely. The chatter was nerves, and she was clearly in awe of him. He danced with her like he did Gwen, or perhaps Morgana (if they were alone or just with Gwen). Kept her steady as she danced, trying to keep himself calm.

When the song ended, Merlin fully intended on leaving her.

But suddenly there were soft lips against his, and Merlin’s heart broke. Because, despite her brashness everywhere else, this was gentle. Careful, nothing more than a light pressure against his own lips, and it hurt so badly. The last person to kiss him was Freya, and that thought had him stumbling back.

‘Oh Goddess, I thought…’ She was apologising, and Merlin wasn’t breathing, because his chest was tightening too quickly and…

‘This way, c’mon.’ Someone was leading him away, towards the forest and out of the constant gaze of the Druids.

He gasped, struggling to control his racing heart, but someone was calming him.

‘…Deep breaths, that’s it.’ A set of blue eyes met his, dark hair, smooth skin. Merlin focused on his saviour, rather than the thoughts, and regarded the man curiously.

‘Thanks.’

‘Don’t mention it. Those things can get overwhelming.’

**

His name was Eric, and he was a Druid. They sat in the forest, drinking from Merlin’s Magic-refilling mug, laughing at things that nobody else would understand.

‘Yes! Destiny can suck my arse, if the King was a prat, I’d have fled to the continent.’ Merlin snorted with laughter, taking another gulp and handing the cup across.

‘He is a prat. But a friend, despite it.’ Eric chuckled, patting his shoulder.

‘Honestly, I thought you’d be some wrinkly old man. It’s nice to meet someone my age.’ The Warlock could agree, he didn’t have many friends that had a gift like him. Morgana aside, most sorcerers hated him.

‘Would it ruin it to tell you I’ve been a wrinkly old man?’ He slurred out, having had one too many drunks, and Eric burst out into more laughter. It was infectious, suddenly Merlin was laughing as well, dropping back to the forest floor and wondering why he’d never gotten drunk before. It felt incredible, suddenly he could forget that he had panicked, that Arthur knew about his Magic.

‘So, what’re you going to do ‘bout the animal Knights?’ Eric questioned, Merlin having told him the truth. Most of the Druids didn’t know that, except from Oshi, and his new-found friend.

‘Leave em like that? Certainly saves the questions.’ That had the two of them sniggering, before Merlin shrugged.

‘Find the sorcerer, change them back. Accept Arthur’s punishment for lying.’ Eric propped himself up on his elbow, peering down at him.

‘You think he’d hurt you?’

‘I’d deserve it.’ Merlin whispered, and Eric waited patiently.

‘I lied. I betrayed his trust, when I’m supposed to be the most loyal…’

‘You kept him safe. And if you truly are two sides of the same coin, then you’ll always be brothers, regardless of whether or not you lied to him.’ The word threw him, Merlin feeling his chest burn with a need. Arthur was like a sibling, the closest person he’d ever had, and it sometimes hurt.

‘We can stop talkin’ about Arthur now.’ Merlin remarked, pouring the rest of the drink into his mouth. Eric laughed, then snatched the refilling mug.

‘You know, I tried courting Amie.’ The Warlock faltered, found Eric’s sad gaze on him.

‘She doesn’t want me. I know that, but… It sometimes hurts.’ Merlin understood. How could he not?

‘You feel like your unworthy of being around her?’ Merlin questioned, even though he knew the answer. He knew how it felt, the ache that sat in the pit of his stomach that he smoothed over with laughter and jokes, by keeping up the appearance of being a servant. Eric nodded, then let out a cold chuckle.

‘What’re they like?’ For a moment, he considered denying his affections. He hadn't ever acknowledged them aloud, knew it would end up with heartbreak.

‘Incredible. Loyal. Funny. Too smart for their own good, sometimes.’ Merlin thought to where his heart lay, then tried to pull it back. Freya had been killed just because Merlin had to choose Destiny over everything, and he didn’t want to have to do the same again.

‘Do they look like me?’ Eric questioned, moving closer to Merlin. Ahh, he could see where this was going. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the knowledge that this didn’t mean anything, but Merlin didn’t pull away.

‘The wrong colour eyes, right colour hair.’ Dark, but the blue eyes were unnerving.

‘Then it isn’t too hard to pretend, is it?’ Eric remarked, and Merlin answered the question by closing the distance between them.

It was a kiss. His last kiss had been with Freya, all that time ago, and this was nothing like it. It was slow, there was no rush to the causal touch, and Merlin was surprised by the fact his Magic seemed curious. For a moment, it was a lazy making out that the Warlock was enjoying, before his mind flashed to what he couldn’t have, and he pulled back.

‘Not quite right, huh?’ Eric joked, Merlin sitting up and smiling gently.

‘It wasn’t awful.’ He admitted, but they both knew that it wasn’t what the other really wanted.

‘You should give it another go, with Amie.’ Merlin randomly stated, while Eric eyed him up. Then, slowly, the Druid nodded.

‘Can’t refuse an order from my King, can I?’ That had Merlin laughing, the Druid copying until he pulled himself up, looking to the treeline.

‘You’ve got yourself an audience.’ Merlin’s head snapped round, focusing first on the bear, then the other selection of animals that stood at the edge of the clearing.

Shit, that would be fun to explain in the morning.

Merlin snorted with laughter, dropping back down to the grass and filling his cup back up. A little liquid courage never hurt anyone.

**

‘Morgana!’ The Witch caught him, which he was thankful for, because his legs felt like jelly and his head was spinning quicker than he’d ever thought possible. She laughed, wrapping an arm around his waist and dragging him in the direction of the tent, some of the Druids pointing it out to her. She’d arrived just as Merlin had been stumbling back towards the Camp, fingers on his lips as he remembered both kisses.

‘You’re drunk.’ She stated, once she’d sat him down on the bed. He giggled, reaching out for her and then pouting when she stepped out of range.

‘M’not drunk.’ He protested, before the High Priestess crouched down.

‘Why are you hurting, Merlin? I can feel your pain from here.’ It stabbed a little too closely to home, especially when the tent opened up once more to reveal the stalker-animals that kept following him. Morgana left his side to go to them, eyes flicking gold as she studied the curse.

‘They know ‘bout my Magic.’ Merlin slurred, struggling to kick his boots off. Morgana gasped, looking to Arthur, then back to Merlin.

‘Well, that explains the mess you’re in.’ She concluded, coming back to his side and finishing off untying his boots, helping him out of them. She then reached for his shirt, tugging it off before he could complain, and wrinkled her nose up.

‘You stink of alcohol. Breeches off as well.’ Merlin would have pointed out it was highly inappropriate, but they both knew that Merlin’s heart lay somewhere else, as did her own.

‘You’re bossy.’ Morgana snorted, rolling her eyes as she unlaced his trousers.

‘And you’re in need of someone to take care of you.’ He fought the statement, tried to wiggle away from her hands, only to fall still when her eyes flashed gold. It was such a vibrant colour, and accompanied by the warmth of her Magic, Merlin relaxed.

‘M’okay.’ He tried, but Morgana just tucked the blankets up around him.

‘We both know that isn’t true, Merlin. Has it got anything to do with the pretty girl outside?’ He winced, rolling and trying to hide his head under the covers. Morgana stood, stepped out of her own boots and undid the belt that held her sword, before pulling back the covers and sliding in beside him. Instinct had him moving his arm to accommodate her, like he did when they stayed out late to practice Magic, or when her nightmares got too much for her to handle. She snuggled into his side, resting her head on his chest.

‘M’never loving a woman.’ He provided, to which Morgana laughed.

‘Good. If you liked women, I’d never be this close to you.’ He hummed, ran fingers through her hair and then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

‘Sleep, Gana. I’ll keep watch.’ She didn’t point out that he was drunk, even though she could have done. Instead, the Witch did as told, leaving Merlin to stare at the tent.

The Knights settled down once Morgana fell asleep, Lancelot curling up on the end of the bed, while Gwaine looked across at him with an expression Merlin couldn’t place.

Merlin wasn’t sure he wanted the curse to be undone so soon, not with all the things the Knights now knew about him.

**

Morgana rode on her own horse, while Merlin pushed forwards. The tracking spell had been useful, performed by Oshi and the other Druids at first light. Morgana had pointed out that he could have done it himself, but the Warlock didn’t want to intrude on the chance for the Druids to help. They had been more than happy to do so, and it had made very little difference to them.

‘When we find the sorcerer, what’s the plan?’ Morgana questioned, fingers drifting to the sword at her side. Excalibur, he’d given her across willingly to the High Priestess, knowing that Morgana deserved her more. After all, Merlin had betrayed his King, as Arthur would point out when he was back to being a human.

‘Ask them to reverse the curse.’ Merlin provided, checking the map that shifted between his hands, before urging Sparky onwards. Morgana had brought Llamrei, a mare that he liked and trusted, and responded well to his Magic.

‘And if they don’t?’ He knew what she was trying to hint at. What would he do, if the sorcerer did not understand that there wasn’t really an option?

Percival made a worried sound, as did some of the other Knights. Clearly, they hadn't thought about what they’d actually do upon finding the Sorcerer.

‘Most curses drop when the sorcerer is killed.’ Morgana informed the Knights, Merlin feeling the bile swirl in his stomach at the thought.

Destiny, that’s what it always came down to. He was supposed to do anything for Arthur, even kill his own kind, without blinking. He was supposed to sacrifice whatever he held dear in his heart, just because he was tied to a King that didn’t even fully accept Magic yet.

Merlin’s eyes drifted without his consent, falling to the grey hunting dog by Sparky’s side. In times like this, it would have been Gwaine’s company that Merlin sought out. The Knight always knew how best to cheer Merlin up, and the Warlock had grown used to his company.

‘So? Do I need to kill him?’ Morgana was offering, because she knew what it did to Merlin to have to hurt sorcerers. She’d seen him with blood on his hands, trying desperately to forget everything that had happened just moments before.

‘Protect Arthur and the Knights.’ Merlin responded, answering the question she’d never asked. Her face showed her worry, a smooth crease of a frown forming, but he ignored it.

He was a Warlock, and the most powerful one at that. He could handle himself.

**

He’d anticipated the tragic backstory. The murder of his family, because of Uther Pendragon. The hateful tone and the whispers of the Pyre that the man had grown up fearing, all because of the previous King. Merlin had expected all of this, soothed the sorcerer that wielded a blade like he was fully willing to strike Merlin down. The Knights stayed back, a golden shield of Morgana’s making to keep them safe, and Merlin tried again.

‘Arthur is nothing like his Father…’ How many times had he used that justification? He’d known, as soon as he’d dismounted the horse and approached the cave in which the sorcerer was camping, that this would be the outcome.

‘He’s a Pendragon! Magic can never be free, with him on the throne.’ Hissed, spat out like poison, his eyes tearful and his hands shaking as he clasped them around the sword. Merlin held his hands up, attempting to placate the man, letting his Magic come forward enough to turn his eyes to liquid sunlight.

‘Magic will be free, when the lands are united.’ A prophecy that he had been burdened with, that he had shouldered alone, and the Warlock wondered when this simple Hunting trip had gone so wrong. Probably right about the time he thought he could tell Arthur that he had Magic.

‘Emrys…’ He was well known, it seemed. Merlin thought this might be a good sign, but the man’s face hardened.

‘You’re a traitor to your own kind!’ It was that word, the one he hated, that told him all he needed to know about how this situation would end. The Warlock did not plead, did not beg for the man to change, because there was no point anymore.

People would challenge him, as long as he kept letting them think him weak. They would keep coming after Arthur, until he stopped being so afraid of the King’s reaction and acted as he should have done, from the very moment he walked into Camelot.

When the man charged, Merlin didn’t even need to raise his hand. His anger bubbled up, wrapping around his Magic and sending the bolt of energy outwards. It struck the man mid-charge, sent him flying back until he hit the rocks behind, and something cracked.

Morgana’s gasp, accompanied by a bright light that engulfed the Knights of Camelot, was all Merlin needed to know that the man was dead. Another sorcerer, killed by his own hand.

When he turned away from the dead sorcerer, it was to the sight of the Knights of Camelot, dressed in their armour and with the red capes hanging around them, swords back at their sides. Morgana was handing Excalibur back to her brother, while Arthur’s eyes were focused solely on him.

He waited for a verdict. For a death sentence, or hatred, or whatever Arthur decided to dish out.

Surprisingly, all he saw was pity. Not just on Arthur’s face, but stretched across each one of them. Gwaine was the first to move, to come walking across and wrapping an arm around him, pulling him in for a hug.

‘We missed you, mate.’

Merlin didn’t think things would ever be the same again.


	2. Gwaine's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a lil chapter from Gwaine's POV :)

Gwaine was a dog. That was the first thing he realised, after being blinded by the bloody sorcerer that had snuck up on them. His main concern was Merlin, he’d seen the manservant go flying backwards right as he’d been walking up to Arthur. The Knight had been hovering close by, in case the King decided to do something stupid, like attack Merlin.

Anyway, back to the fact that he was a dog. He certainly seemed to have drawn the better straw, barking in amusement as Elyan tried to slither out from the pile of clothes. Merlin was sprawled out on the floor, face-down in the dirt, and Gwaine bounded across to his side.

A steady rise and fall of his chest kept Gwaine from panicking, although he did nudge at Merlin’s cheek, encouraging him to rise. When that didn’t work, he did it again, slightly firmer. Behind him, someone was trying to get his attention, but he growled out a warning.

 _‘Stay back.’_ He warned, his voice not really sounding like anything human as he tried to convey his thoughts. Luckily, whoever it was seemed to get the message, and Merlin began to stir. The man sat up slowly, staring at Gwaine with confusion, rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked around. His first find was Elyan, muttering out a word while Percival crept closer.

Gwaine would have laughed, had it not been terrifying to see Merlin so afraid, moving back as he tried to get up to his feet, before his head cocked to the side. He could see the exact moment it dawned on Merlin, watched as the manservant grinned.

‘Percival?’ The Knight nodded, while Merlin picked up Elyan, calling his name and letting him settle on the ground in front.

‘Lance.’ Gwaine listened to him laugh, Merlin dropping back to the leaves as Lancelot meowed in confirmation of what he suspected.

When was it his turn? Gwaine waited patiently, felt the urge to let his mouth drop open and pant, while his tail thumped against the ground. He had a tail! This was going to be so much fun, he decided.

‘Sir Leon.’ Trust Merlin to make him wait, Gwaine thought, before the manservant finally addressed him. Then Merlin’s instinct drove him to look for Arthur, who Gwaine had identified earlier. He looked rather annoyed to be last, Gwaine thought, listening to Merlin as he wandered over to the footprints.

‘We’re going after the sorcerer.’ Most of the Knights protested, while Gwaine tried to convey that he was quite happy with the idea.

 _‘An adventure!’_ Gwaine called, although it came out as a bark.

Then Arthur, the idiot that his was, decided that it was time to try and take control. The Princess came swooping down, unsteady on his wings and clearly unused to his own strength, made clear the moment his talons broke Merlin’s skin. The sound Arthur made was apologetic enough, but Gwaine growled and moved towards the bird anyway, snorting in amusement when the Princess had to hop and try to desperately flap his wings to get away.

‘Shit.’ Gwaine was gaining ground, until fingers grabbed the back of his neck and halted him in his tracks.

‘Behave.’ He felt like a scolded pup, sat down and let Merlin begin to load the horses with armour. As each one left, Gwaine began to realise how serious this might actually be. Merlin was picking up Arthur’s sword, guiding Sparky to the group, but Gwaine could already see the thought process behind his fake smile.

This was going to be a long trip.

**

For the most part, Gwaine was happy to stick by Merlin’s side. He occasionally teased Leon, who looked ridiculous as a deer, or stared up longingly at Lancelot’s position on Merlin’s lap. Along with Merlin’s comment about missing his stories, Gwaine decided it was still his job to cheer up the hiding-sorcerer.

‘Right, you all stay here, I’ll…’ Merlin had dismounted from the horse, tying her up and studying the tracks. Heading to the Village was a good idea, one Gwaine agreed with, but definitely not if he was going by himself.

 _‘Absolutely not!’_ Gwaine protested, the others making similar sounds.

‘I can’t take you. You’d all be hunted. Apart from…’ Merlin turned to him, and Gwaine tried not to puff up his chest, rushing over to rub up against Merlin’s legs. With the order given, it was Gwaine’s job to follow.

The walk was made in silence, Merlin deep in thought and Gwaine busy scanning the area for threats. Most of the Villagers were more than happy to help Merlin, especially when he flashed that charming smile of his and began to use his friendly attitude to work them over. Content with his safety, Gwaine took to entertaining the Village, before following Merlin back to Camp.

The evening finished with fishing, Merlin looking rather cute with his scrunched up expression as he tried to catch food for them. Leon chewed lazily on the shrubs around, while they all waited for dinner to be cooked before Merlin lit the fire.

When he reached for the box, Gwaine could tell something Magical was going to happen. He moved closer, studied Morgana’s face as she appeared, then settled back to let the two of them catch up.

**

The thing was, Gwaine had known Merlin had Magic almost from the first moment he met him. There was just something different about Merlin, something that inspired loyalty, and he was quite happy to trust such a man. Listening to Merlin talking to Morgana, having to pretend he didn’t have Magic, it was painful. The Warlock deserved so much more than having to hide, Gwaine could see the pain in his expression as he moved across to Sparky.

It was Gwaine’s job to cheer Merlin up, which was easier when the Warlock came to lie down on the bedroll. He nudged against Merlin, tucking up against the manservant in a way he longed to do when he was in his normal form, but he could settle for this. When Merlin’s arm draped over his body, fingers burying into the fur at the base of his neck, the Knight could settle.

He didn’t sleep for a very long time, too busy watching Merlin’s sleeping form and wondering how this would work. There was no way Merlin could hide his Magic forever, especially not like this.

**

Overheating just meant a lot of panting. He dragged his paws, trying to keep a level ride for Elyan, who was sunbathing between his shoulder blades. The others were just as miserable, Merlin halting Sparky suddenly and dismounting.

Gwaine cocked his head, studied the manservant as he reached for Excalibur. It meant Merlin was having one of his funny feelings, which Gwaine knew better than to dismiss, so he began to scan the clearing.

He spotted it just a moment before Merlin reacted, trying to call the Warlock’s name.

They were outnumbered, even if they’d had swords, and Merlin had already used his Magic. Gwaine finally got to see him use his gift, watched as his hand reached outwards, eyes swirling gold as he threw the bandits backwards. Gwaine admired the Magic, noted the way that the men were still definitely alive, then turned when he heard a meow.

Lancelot was curling around Merlin’s ankles, trying desperately to cheer the Warlock up, who had gone pale very quickly.

Ah.

‘Arthur…’ Gwaine growled out a warning to the King when he turned his head away, Merlin pleading with sad words as he tried to get the Princess to understand. It was ridiculous, Merlin had done so much for them, yet Arthur still felt the need to act like a spoiled brat. Gwaine licked at Merlin’s hand, trying to comfort, but knowing that none of it would make Merlin feel better if Arthur didn’t accept him.

The mention of George, the manservant that Merlin had a very funny love-hate relationship with, made Gwaine’s heart ache for him. It wasn’t fair, he didn’t deserve this pain, and Arthur needed to stop being such an idiot. The Falcon seemed to come to the same conclusion, eventually looking to Merlin and making a sound that didn’t appear angry.

Once he’d knocked out the man that tried to rise, Gwaine watched as he stripped off the bandaging he’d wrapped around his injured arm. The idiot, not using his Magic to heal it just because he feared what Arthur might think. Curious, he nudged at Merlin once more, until the Warlock allowed him to see it. Smooth skin, silver scars that he licked.

Following Merlin was a habit, especially when the water looked so inviting. Merlin’s offer of stripping was something he wasn’t going to deny, but he figured that was best kept until a slightly more appropriate time. Still, he stuck his tongue out just to watch Merlin laugh.

When he was sure Merlin was submerged, he wasted no time in diving into the water. Chasing Merlin was easy, the Warlock laughing and splashing him with such vigour that Gwaine almost halted in his attack. It was fun, and the usual easy partnerships between them began. Once Gwaine had coaxed Percival into chasing him, he made sure to run past Sir Leon, just because the deer had been stuck-up ever since being converted into his animal-self.

Gwaine watched, mostly in amusement, as Arthur decided to try and swim. Obviously he wasn’t going to let the Princess drown, began to head in that direction, but Merlin beat him to it. The bird was dragged from the water, revealing a tempting amount of skin that Gwaine let his eyes roam. He’d once accidentally walked in on Merlin changing, and although he promised he hadn't seen anything, the scars had been on display.

It made something burn in his gut, a distaste for whoever had dared to hurt Merlin. Whip-marks, a very defined Serket sting, it was awful to see. Not just because it meant Merlin had been hurt, but because the manservant had tried to keep it from him.

Merlin realised his mistake too late, tried to backtrack, before walking off to his pile of clothes while the other Knights just stared. Gwaine, never one to let Merlin think himself alone, held his head high and trotted after his friend.

**

Going to a Druid camp was a brilliant idea, Gwaine decided, ignoring Merlin’s warning not to cause mischief as he admired the tents that appeared. His friend was nervous, shown by the quick pep talk he gave himself, so Gwaine stuck close just so that Merlin didn’t feel alone. When he’d learned of Merlin’s Magic, completely by accident, the Warlock had been hesitant to share the rest of the story.

It was a lot to take in, and Gwaine knew it wasn’t all of the story. Like now, the Druids bowing to Merlin as he walked past, awkward and blushing as he tried to insist that they didn’t need to address him as such.

Oshi seemed nice, and Merlin was quite happy to explain the issue. A tracking spell was offered, something that Gwaine had no doubt Merlin could perform, before he was offered a tent for the night.

Merlin may have tried to deny it, but Gwaine was quite happy with the idea. He bounded over to it, glad that it made Merlin laugh as he settled on the comfy bed. Soft sheets that smelled clean, a basin of water in the corner, while Merlin began to try and explain the prophecy to Arthur. As always, Merlin belittled his own part, never wanting to make a big deal of the fact that he was the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth.

Gwaine found it cute, wondered if Merlin would permit him more snuggling tonight. If this was the closest he would ever get to the manservant, he was determined to make the most of it.

When Merlin casually told them he was Emrys, Gwaine fought a laugh, watched as Arthur sunk down onto Percival’s back like he could hide.

Once that was over, Merlin finally came to Gwaine’s side, and the dog moved to make room for the Warlock. He lay across his lap, let Merlin’s fingers idly track through his fur, wondering what was going on in that mind of his.

**

Alcohol. Gwaine hadn't realised how bad Merlin was feeling, not until he was drinking down the liquid like it was water on a hot day. It was worrying, and Gwaine looked around the Knights in an attempt to figure out what to do. With no way of communicating, he was stuck to nudging and different variations on a bark.

Magic was clearly on display in the Camp, but Gwaine had no qualms with it. Arthur was mostly staring, as were the other Knights, until Leon requested a display of Merlin’s strength. Of all the things that he could have made, Gwaine found it endearing that it was a butterfly that he summoned, a beautiful symbol of his Magic. When Gwaine snuffled at his arm, the Warlock let more Magic creep out, a cloud of the creatures fluttering upward.

Oshi came to Merlin’s side to praise him, Gwaine preening even though it was not him receiving the compliments. It was about time somebody told Merlin how beautiful his Magic was, how incredible he could be. He was obviously gaining Merlin’s trust, because the Warlock asked the question that Gwaine had wondered ever since hearing the rumour.

‘Am I truly Magic itself?’ Asked in a rush, and although Merlin was not paying attention to the Knights, Gwaine was. Arthur’s eyes had gone wide, but they showed regret, and Gwaine felt bad for the Princess. In fact, he felt bad for all the Knights, they looked lost. All of them loved Merlin, in varying ways and different degrees, but they could all agree that they needed to make him feel like his Magic was a gift.

Tears welled up in Merlin’s eyes, Lancelot attempting comfort, but it was clear that Merlin didn’t want to talk about it. He cleared his throat, shuffled awkwardly, and almost looked relieved when a woman approached.

She was stunning. If Gwaine had been human, he’d have been right on the flirtation, using all of his charms to sweet-talk her. She wasn’t anywhere near close enough to Merlin’s beauty, but Gwaine could compromise, for she was pretty.

Until she started pushing. It wasn’t her fault, she was just chatting, but insulting Arthur was a very bad thing to do. Combined with the fact that she mentioned Nimueh, the High Priestess responsible for the burn on Merlin’s chest… Gwaine was tempted to claw her off him, could see the Knights ready to step in to help him.

But they were gone, Merlin dancing with her in an attempt to keep her away from then. Gwaine slumped to the ground, Lancelot’s sharp claws attacking him in a way that told Gwaine he should be the one to try and get Merlin back under control.

Before Gwaine could even think of doing just that, the pushy-Druid girl was kissing Merlin, and the poor Warlock looked ready to burst.

Gwaine moved at the same time that all the Knights did, only to be brushed aside by another Druid.

**

Gwaine found the rest of the Knights watching, and figured that he should probably join, if only to make sure Merlin was safe. He’d drunk way too much, was laughing at something Eric said as the two of them sat in the clearing.

The Knights were all curious, probably because they were seeing a side of Merlin that wasn’t usually revealed. In truth, the longer Gwaine watched, the more his heart ached. Merlin never seemed so carefree with him, and the only redeeming fact was that Merlin said his heart belonged to another. With dark hair, which made Gwaine’s heart hopeful, while his brain provided that Morgana also had dark hair. As did Lancelot.

When Merlin kissed the Druid, or the Druid kissed Merlin, Gwaine decided they shouldn’t be watching this. He nipped at Percival’s flank, tried to tug him back, but it wasn’t working.

Merlin’s entire life, exposed before them. It wasn’t right, and Gwaine hated it, knew that Merlin would never trust him again if…

‘You’ve got yourself an audience.’ Merlin was too drunk to be mad, just dropped down to the grass and laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Gwaine growled at the others, dared them to challenge him on this, and moved across to curl up at Merlin’s feet. Once he was sober, he’d try and get an apology across to him.

**

Morgana proved to be helpful in subduing a drunk Merlin. She managed to wrangle him back to the tent, and once they’d disappeared inside, the Knights exchanged a glance. Arthur was the one to make the decision, claws sinking in to Gwaine’s back and urging him to move into the tent. He did so, just in time to see Merlin kicking his boots off as he told Morgana that Arthur knew of his Magic.

The Witch was protective, anybody could see that. The glare she gave each of them dared them to ever try and hurt him, combined with the fact that she had Magic… It wasn’t a combination he wanted to test.

Morgana undressed him easily, tucking him up like a child in the bed, before she mentioned the pretty girl. That was a story he wanted to ask about, combined with Merlin’s comment about never loving women.

Had there been a girl in Merlin’s life? Why hadn't they met her? Did she break his heart? So many questions, not answered as Morgana curled up to Merlin’s chest, the Warlock promising to keep watch while she slept.

Goddess above, why couldn’t Merlin see how much Gwaine cared for him? The dog-Knight sighed, curling up far from the warmth of the Warlock he’d sworn to protect.

**

He called him a traitor. For that alone, Gwaine would have ripped him apart with his teeth. In fact, he was tempted to do such a thing, considering how much pain Merlin had been put through. The backstory did have Gwaine faltering, he felt bad for all those that had been persecuted by Uther’s law. But, as much as he hated to admit it, the Princess was nothing like him.

Morgana did as told, stayed in front of them to keep them safe, not that they needed it. Merlin’s Magic was strong, he barely had to blink to command the spell that struck out. Gwaine watched the man hit the rocks behind, listening to the crack as the life was drained from him, and Gwaine was once again blind.

When he found himself fully clothed and back to being a human, the first thing he felt was panic. Worry, guilt, a wave of things he couldn’t identify. Then, deciding the best thing to do was make sure Merlin was okay, he rushed to the Warlock’s side to hug him.

‘We missed you mate.’

Gwaine didn’t think things would ever be the same again.


End file.
